Isabel is a three year senior from Washington, Connecticut. A prefect in Library, Isabel plays varsity volleyball and is in crew’s first boat.



One lovely summer day when I was eight years old, my father and I went to Stew Leonard’s, now for those of you who don’t know. Stews is a magical place with talking twinkies, singing milk cartons, and moving plastic cows. Oh yea, all that and food. My dad is a fantastic cook, so he ends up buying an interesting array of vegetables and herbs every time he frequents a super market. After I make sure to hit up all the free samples, and do the Chiquita banana dance next to a lifesize model, we hit the checkout line.

My father pushes the cart into a checkout aisle manned by a greasy exhausted looking teenage boy who looks like he would rather be anywhere else in the world. After riffling through the sage, smelling the thyme, and touching the basil he could not distinguish any of them, and punched in some arbitrary price and tossed them in the bag. Up next came the cabbage, a fairly common vegetable, especially if you have even one Irish relative. But the boy was not on his game. He raised the leafy light green head and asks ‘Uhh, what is this?’ My father responds with an annoyed ‘That is cahbegh.’ The boy immediately placed the produce in the gray trash can, happy to have one less item to deal with. “EHHH, what are you doing, I want the cahbegh!” my father proclaimed. At this point, the boy looked around, clearly in over his head and shrugged his shoulders and put the entire trash can on the conveyor belt. “Fine, take it” he retorted. “Not the GARBAGE, just the CAHBEGH!” At this point I had to push my father aside and explain in the sweetest voice my seven year old self could muster up and tell this boy, that that unidentified vegetable was actually cabbage, and did not belong in the garbage. Thus started my career as a peace mediator. I lived my childhood mostly unscathed by silly fights, because I seemed to always be right in the middle of others problems, never on one side or the other. It was like playing a perpetual game of house where I was always the mom. Right before high school, I decided that I would leave the old me behind, start again, cause some ripples, work through my own issues , but that didn’t last. Entering into Choate, I had more drama, problems, fights and grudges than I could get my head around. I would give advice to whoever would ask, and secretly loved it when people came to me. I was the level headed one, I was the one that never got angry.

This served me well for the early years of my life, other than a squabble about Barbie dolls, or turns down the slide, I was a pretty easy going kid. Middle school was great, my group of friends were untouched by gossip wars that surge through boarding middle schools, its like everyone’s practicing for the real deal, when shit really starts to hit the fan. The first term of Choate, it served me as well as it ever had, I found a way to distract myself from the intense homesickness by sitting down with anyone I knew that needed to vent, and trust me in a dorm with twelve other sophomore girls this never ran low, hashing it out and figuring it out some way to make it better were small successes in a first term that seemed to be full of so many frustrations and failures. This was my way of reaching out to people. Choate demands perfection, we are all constantly working for those perfect grades, that great athletic career, the coveted leading role in a play so why should friendships be any different. The first couple of terms we show up here, we throw out a net, real in as many people as we can and then proceed to sort through them all to find those perfect friendships, those people you just click with. It is this core group that gives you your foothold at Choate This ‘peace and love’ motto has done wonders for me but don’t get me wrong, I am flawed. I can’t stand being in fights, I hate the akwardness of once being friends, I dread the couple of days I have ever been in fights with my good friends, because my instinct kicks in and I smile and hug like nothings wrong. Until I see that ‘uhmm hello, I am really pissed at you’ face, and then I shrink back, embarrassed I was so not discreetly shut down. Regardless of the validity of the fight, I would talk it out or just get over it entirely. I am incapable of holding a grudge, fights tear me up inside, and ruin my sleep. Deep down, I am a selfish person. I threw my net out sophomore year, I found the people that made and ordinary day a great day and there was no way in hell I was willing to give any of them up.. I would go through any hoop, make any concession just to be on good terms again. However, sometimes not having a problem with anything or anyone is a serious problem. There are times you just have to hold your ground. You have to make it clear that you have been wronged, or that you are hurt. I have never really been capable of doing this and Choate has taught me the importance of it.

You have to wonder where that anger and frustration goes to, my theory is that I would be terrible at sports if I didn’t have this. Volleyball, rowing…it doesn’t get much more, ‘take your aggression out on the opponent’ than that. I am grateful to have this outlet because I know what vocalized fury can do to relationships, and I have seen some of the strongest friendships and marriages fall victim to screaming, yelling and a complete unleashing of the thoughts that you would never vocalize in a normal state of thinking. My three years at Choate Rosemary Hall have been a mess, a big wonderful exciting ‘hot mess’ to quote the great Rod Mobley. There have been few times I have felt totally miserable here because I’ve always had a wonderful assortment of friends to fall back on, and no matter who hates who one day or who left who, they have never failed me. For that, I thank each and every one of you.

I cling onto them, and mend any holes that appear, all to preserve the best part of my life, the really kick butt people that are in it. If there is anything I can leave you with, it’s to take a little of the ‘peace and love’ motto into your own life. Appreciate the friends you’ve come to love, and think really hard before dismissing one or several of them. But learn from my mistakes, stand up for what you know is wrong and right, even if it means losing something important to you. I know that now, and it only took my seventeen years. I know I don’t have to tell you all how important friends are, faculty, students, coaches whatever. So the next time rumors bounce around, and your tempted to completely ostracize someone over what Paul’s friends roommate said, take a deep breath, and think is this really worth it? If you think it is, go for it, but most of the times its not. And honestly, anything we can do to make this place a little easier to survive in is always a good thing.